TLC Book Tours: The Longest Silence (excerpt)

About The Longest Silence
Hardcover: 336 pages
Publisher: MIRA (March 6, 2018)
“The twists and turns in this dark, taut drama make it both creepy and compelling.” —New York Times bestselling author Steve Berry
A killer stole her voice. Now she’s ready to take it back. Don’t miss the chilling Shades of Death series from USA TODAY bestselling author Debra Webb.
Joanna Guthrie was free. She had been for eighteen years–or so she needed everyone to believe. What really happened during the longest fourteen days of her life, when she and two other women were held captive by the worst kind of serial killer, wasn’t something she could talk about. Not after what they had to do to survive.
But when more women go missing in an eerily similar manner, Jo knows her prolonged silence will only seal their fates. She’s finally ready to talk; she just needs someone to listen. FBI special agent Tony LeDoux can’t deny he finds Jo compelling–he’s just not sure he believes her story. But with the clock ticking, Jo will do anything to convince him, even if it means unearthing long-buried secrets that will land them squarely in the crosshairs of the killer…
“This psychological thriller is rife with tension that begins on page one and doesn’t let up. It’s a race against the clock that had me whispering to the pair of flawed, desperate protagonists, ‘Hurry,hurry.’ A gripping read.”  —New York Times bestselling author Sandra Brown

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Excerpt

“None of her clothes are missing. Nothing. If she went on a weekend trip, wouldn’t she take something? A change of clothes? Her purse?”

That drop of fear he’d felt earlier widened into a distinct trickle. “She didn’t take her purse? What about her driver’s license and cell phone?”

“No. Nothing. Tony,” Ang said somberly, “she didn’t even take her makeup or her Jeep.”

A flood of uncertainty crowded into his chest now, making his next breath difficult. “Okay. Have you alerted campus security?”

His niece was a beautiful girl and certainly didn’t need cosmetics to enhance her natural beauty but she refused to step out the door without the works. If she didn’t take her makeup, she hadn’t left willingly. Not to mention her cell phone and driver’s license. If they possessed one or both, no teenager left without them.

“Yes, of course. We’re headed to Milledgeville now. I need you, Tony. I don’t care what’s going on with you and the Bureau—I need you. Tiffany needs you.”

With Ang and Steve in Dahlonega, the drive down to Milledgeville would take between two and three hours. They would arrive well ahead of Tony, which meant he had to get moving.

He leaned forward, fighting back the urge to vomit, and gathered his sneakers. “Call the Dean and ask him to put campus security on high alert. As soon as you get to Milledgeville, go straight to the security office. I’ll call the Milledgeville chief of police and explain our concerns so he’ll see the urgency in the situation.”

“Thank you.” His sister made a keening sound. “What if—”

“Ang, stop. Don’t even go there right now.” She started to cry and the sound was like daggers twisting in his chest. In the background her husband, Steve, offered quiet reassurances. When silence filled the air between them, Tony said, “Listen to me, sis, we’ll find her.”

“Promise me, Tony. Promise me you’ll find our baby.”

“I promise.”

The call dropped off. Tony blew out a heavy breath. Now sure as hell wasn’t the time to tell his sister that he wasn’t simply having trouble with the Bureau—he had resigned from his position at BAU-2. He’d been keeping that secret from his ex-wife and his sister for more than a month. He glanced back at the blonde. He’d filled his nights with booze and women whose names he couldn’t remember the next morning. Like a vampire, he spent his days sleeping.

He grabbed his shirt and headed for the bathroom. A better man would shave and shower before hitting the road, but Tony wasn’t a better man anymore. He’d stopped being that man more than a year ago.

Bitter bile rushed into his throat and he barely made it to the toilet. He heaved until there was nothing left to exorcise from his gut.

The path of self-destruction. His new boss had said those words to him in the final weeks before Tony gave the hard-nosed asshole and the Bureau the middle finger. He flushed the toilet and, with effort, pushed to his feet. He ducked his head under the faucet and rinsed his mouth. Swiping his face with his forearm, he stared at his reflection. He definitely needed to shave. Needed a haircut. Looked like death warmed over.

No time to fix his broken image.

He bumped into the wall on his way to the walk-in closet. The idea that his blood alcohol level might still be lingering above the legal limit filtered through his mind. No time to fix that either. He’d take food and water with him and work on that particular issue en route. He grabbed the leather overnight bag he’d used for the eleven years of service he’d given the Federal Bureau of Investigation.

He ignored the row of suits and crisply pressed shirts and stuffed a couple of polo shirts and another pair of jeans, socks and underwear into the bag. A pair of loafers went in next. Should have gone in first. Before his fall from grace he’d packed this damned bag so meticulously that even his shirts came out as smooth as when they’d gone in. Not anymore. On second thought he shoved a suit jacket into the bag. If he halfway looked the part maybe Angie wouldn’t have too many questions.

At the door to the bedroom he remembered his Dopp kit. He might not want to shave now but he’d have to eventually if he expected the local cops to listen to what he had to say. He added the toiletry kit to his bag.

As a profiler for the Bureau he’d spent a lot of years learning how to manipulate the locals to accomplish his goal. In fact, he’d become a master manipulator. Maybe all that bad Karma he’d left in his wake had finally caught up to him.

He glanced at the blonde in his bed. This was the part he always dreaded.

Chelsea or Chanel wasn’t happy about being roused. She called him every foul name in her vast repertoire while he helped her dress. When he’d called a cab, he gave her a bottle of water and maneuvered her out of the building. As the car pulled away from the curb she shouted asshole and flipped her middle finger at him.

Nothing he didn’t deserve. He climbed into his BMW and collapsed against the seat. Anthony LeDoux, this is your life.

Somehow, until he figured out where the hell Tiffany was, he’d have to find a way to pull himself together and at least pretend his world hadn’t gone to shit and that he could help rescue his niece from whatever trouble she had gotten herself into.

Too bad he’d lost his hero credentials months ago.

About Debra Webb

DEBRA WEBB is the award winning, USA Today bestselling author of more than 130 novels, including reader favorites the Faces of Evil, the Colby Agency, and the Shades of Death series. With more than four million books sold in numerous languages and countries, Debra’s love of storytelling goes back to her childhood on a farm in Alabama.

Connect with Debra

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